


New Year's Resolution

by Ankhiale



Series: Making the Best of Things [16]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankhiale/pseuds/Ankhiale
Summary: Roger and Alanna talk.





	New Year's Resolution

Alanna’s sitting at a table in the Dove with Thom and George, enjoying an early dinner, when a shadow falls across them and Thom goes very, very still. George cuts himself off mid-sentence and just _stares_ at the interrupter for a minute, before rising.

He gives Duke Roger his best (and smarmiest, Alanna thinks fondly) courtly bow. “Welcome to the Dancing Dove, Your Grace. What can we do for you this fine evenin’?”

Duke Roger graces them with one of his trademark charming smiles, but, Alanna notes, he is studiously avoiding looking at Thom. “I apologize for interrupting your meal. I hoped to speak with Lady Alanna for a minute, if I may.”

It’s not really a request, Alanna thinks, setting her napkin down, but at least he’s being polite. She stands, one hand drifting to Fire, and she sees Roger’s eyes widen, just a touch. She deftly unhooks the scabbard from her belt and lays her sword on her chair. Roger’s expression, if anything, gets a little more stunned.

“Of course,” she says to the duke with a curtsey. “I’ll be right back,” she says to Thom and George, the former of whom is looking at her approvingly and the latter of whom is looking at her like she’s lost her goddamn mind.

Roger takes her arm and escorts her outside and down the street, to one of the quiet little parks that dot Corus. It’s pretty much empty; this park doesn’t get much in the way of people until evening. Alanna wonders idly, as she waits for Roger to speak, if he knew that or if it’s just a happy coincidence.

Roger guides her over to one of the benches beneath an ancient willow and they sit together. Roger’s still silent, staring out sightlessly at the street, and Alanna doesn’t push him. Whatever he wants to talk to her about, he’s clearly working up the nerve to actually say it, and people gather courage in their own time.

Finally, Roger clears his throat, clasps his hands together, and looks at her. “Your brother says you once had dreams of being a knight.”

Alanna inclines her head. “I did,” she confirms, and shockingly, this time, it doesn’t hurt to say. Not much, anyway.

Roger regards her, and Alanna realizes he’s seen the little flash of bitterness she thought she’d hidden. He falls silent again, looking her over for a long, long minute, and Alanna waits patiently for him to find whatever he’s looking for.

He nods, half to himself, and asks, murmurs really, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” Alanna asks, though she thinks she knows.

Roger can’t bring himself to say it, Alanna realizes, watching as he lapses into silence again. She takes pity on him.

“When I first got to the convent, I wasn’t happy,” Alanna says, toying idly with the hem of her sleeve. Roger snorts, and Alanna thinks, if only you weren’t a murderous traitor, I could’ve liked you. She shakes the thought out of her head, then continues on. “I used to scale the temple wall every morning and watch the temple’s warriors at practice, and stew in my own dashed dreams and bitterness.” A dark smile that looks far, far too much like one of her twin’s crosses her face.

Alanna pauses then and turns to Roger, detangling his hands and clasping one. Roger, still watching her intently, raises one eyebrow but allows the familiarity.

Alanna meets his eyes squarely. This is too important for indirectness. “One of the Daughters found me there, one day, and we talked, for a bit. She told me that since I couldn’t follow my old dream, I needed to figure out _why_ I’d dreamed that dream in the first place, and go from there. We don’t just want things for no reason,” she elaborates, feeling a bit silly. “But it’s those reasons that are important in the end, not the things we think we want.”

Roger regards her for another long, long moment, then gently squeezes her hand and releases her. It is all the thanks he ever gives her. They both rise.

“I suppose I had best get you back to your brother, before he comes looking for me,” Roger says. Alanna has to give him credit; it’s been only two days since Thom’s knighting, and Roger’s voice barely shakes.

“Oh, he knows better than to worry about me, Your Grace,” Alanna replies impishly, unable to stop the smirk. Roger does a surprisingly subtle double-take, then smiles something more real than his charming one.

They walk back to the Dove in silence, smiling all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's read, kudosed, commented, and critiqued my work over the years. I am absolutely abysmal at responding to comments, for a variety of reasons, but I wanted y'all to know that I've read and valued each one, positive or negative, and I'll try to be better at replying going forward.
> 
> As always, I plan to continue this series, but as usual I make no promises as to when.
> 
> Thank you all, again, and I hope you enjoyed the fic.


End file.
